


Having a bloody ball

by newtmasdoesthedo



Series: Well, except Newt. He calls me Tommy. [5]
Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Halloween, M/M, halloween fic, this is silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:30:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2556428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtmasdoesthedo/pseuds/newtmasdoesthedo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas scoffed, “It’s a marvel and a wonder who ever thought it’d be a good idea to make you boss.”</p><p>Minho beamed with happiness, “Well, Alby obviously couldn’t take the stress. I can.”</p><p>“That’s because you’re who causes the stress.” Thomas deadpanned, and Minho slapped the back of his head.</p><p>“Slim it, don’t pretend you don’t like it, you’re my lieutenant, it’s a great honour.” He stated, straightening his back and trying to look important. Thomas rolled his eyes again, but Minho ignored it and proceeded. “Okay, so here’s the plan. The blondie goes to the party, and he obviously needs to get laid.”</p><p>Thomas nodded silently, raising his eyebrows at Minho while waiting for him to get to the point. When the raven-haired guy didn’t immediately proceeded Thomas sighed, “Aaaand?”</p><p>“Glad you asked, Greenie.” He continued, and Thomas groaned loudly, “You’re going to get him laid.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Having a bloody ball

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Halloween fic written for the [Newmas Network](http://newmasnetwork.tumblr.com) where I am known as _Mod Minho_  
>  2\. Uh, idk what to tell ya man, I'm sorry about this, I know it's not up to par. I tried though.

One of the best things that had ever happened to Thomas had been meeting Minho. Getting into a fraternity at college had seemed a bit like something to do because his father wanted him to carry on the legacy of his old house, but then he’d visited the college and… well. The rest kind of just happened on its own. It was fun. It was partying every day, it was having fun with his friends, it was helping Chuck fit in when he started. It was late night snacks that Frypan cooked up, it was wrestling with Gally for the remote, it was playing Fifa and Tekken with Minho all night and stumbling into class like zombies, gone on coffee, Adderall and Red Bulls. It was pranking Alby constantly until he finally snapped.  
  
It was hitting on girls and boys alike, it was having fun, it was appreciating being young before the scary notion of adulthood took over their lives for good. And yeah, they were menaces, they were pranksters, and basically the only reason they didn’t get in trouble more was Minho’s stealth, because Thomas didn’t own a single gram of that.  
  
That was alright, though, because it was sort of fun to have that rep. Of course there were people who thought that they were ridiculous morons, but those people honestly didn’t mean much. It didn’t matter, because they obviously didn’t know how to live anyway, and Thomas didn’t have the attention span to worry about angry prudes who didn’t know how to have fun for very long.  
  
So basically him and Minho were on the prowl for something to do again, and as the idiots they were, they’d ended up at the library, shoving at each other now and then and trying to locate some of the more studious hotties (Minho had a theory that those were the wildest ones because they didn’t get to party hard so often and Thomas was completely for it.) and chatting some people up. Of course not all people enjoyed this, but then they just moved on. Until someone snapped.  
  
Thomas didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed this guy before, because _pretty_ didn’t seem to cover it. He had a nagging feeling that he should have – that maybe he had and he just couldn’t place him. Thomas couldn’t really make himself call the kid sexy, because he looked like the type who was just waiting to be corrupted. But pretty didn’t cover it either, because he was… well, he was a whole new level.  
  
His hair was almost golden, and it looked like he’d been running his fingers through it in frustration (which, judging from the huge ass book on law that was lying in front of him, was a pretty fair guess), and his eyes were a dark oak-brown that made Thomas’ heart beat just a little faster. And he was screaming at them, but Thomas didn’t really hear the words, he just looked at him, enjoying the beautiful, _beautiful_ face flushing redder and redder in his rage. Minho was putting an arm around the guy, and that only seemed to make him even angrier, because he shoved at him until Teresa came over and saved them. Thomas snapped out of his stupor when the guy turned to him, _“And you!”_  
  
He smiled sheepishly, “What?” he asked, not even remembering what he’d said to the guy to get him this worked up (if he had remembered he’d probably say it again if only to see him blush so prettily again). He was more than a little confused on what he could have possibly said that was so bad.  
  
Teresa quickly stepped between them though, her most placating smile in place. Thomas had known her since they were just kids, and that was probably the only reason she helped him because if anyone was studious, that was Teresa. She probably didn’t appreciate them disturbing her in the library either. “Hey, relax Newt, I know you’re stressed out, but maybe just take it down a notch so you don’t get us thrown out, yeah?” she asked, managing to make it sound like advice, question and order at the same time – a scary skill Teresa had always possessed and Thomas had never quite understood.  
  
The guy – _Newt_ – deflated visibly at this. “There are so many idiots in here today, only thinking about finding their next make-out-victim and drinking, _some_ of us are trying to study.” He muttered, glaring daggers at Minho who looked like he’d been handed the world’s biggest Christmas present.  
  
Teresa turned to Thomas. “Hey guys, maybe just you know, get the fuck out before we all get in trouble? Some of us don’t goof off all day, we’re not all here on track-scholarships, some of us have to work our asses off to make the tuition worthwhile.” She stated, sending Minho (who was practically leering at her) a stern glance when he’d moved to put some of the decorations that the librarians had placed (fake webs, very cosy) in her hair.  
  
Her gaze was much softer when it returned to Thomas, “Whatever, stop staring at him, he’s just really high strung, we’ll come to your stupid party.” She promised, and the blonde behind her spluttered and started protesting, but she just laughed softly. “Trust me, Newt, he’s not going away until you agree, he’s one stubborn idiot.”  
  
Newt seemed pretty disgusted, but Minho was satisfied and slung an arm around Thomas’ shoulders, leading him out with a sly smile on his face. Thomas brightened up a bit, knowing that Minho probably had a plan and that Thomas would most likely enjoy it. “What’re you thinking?”  
  
Minho smirked when the door fell closed behind them just in time to let them hear a librarian give “Mr. Isaacs” a lecture on volume-levels in the library. “You’ll like this one, Greenie-“  
  
“You can’t keep calling me Greenie, I’m not the newest member of the house by a far stretch.”  
  
“As I was saying, Greenie-“  
  
Thomas scoffed, “It’s a marvel and a wonder who ever thought it’d be a good idea to make you boss.”  
  
Minho beamed with happiness, “Well, Alby obviously couldn’t take the stress. I can.”  
  
“That’s because you’re who causes the stress.” Thomas deadpanned, and Minho slapped the back of his head.  
  
“Slim it, don’t pretend you don’t like it, you’re my lieutenant, it’s a great honour.” He stated, straightening his back and trying to look important. Thomas rolled his eyes again, but Minho ignored it and proceeded. “Okay, so here’s the plan. The blondie goes to the party, and he obviously needs to get laid.”  
  
Thomas nodded silently, raising his eyebrows at Minho while waiting for him to get to the point. When the raven-haired guy didn’t immediately proceeded Thomas sighed, “Aaaand?”  
  
“Glad you asked, Greenie.” He continued, and Thomas groaned loudly, “You’re going to get him laid.”  
  
Thomas furrowed his brows. “Excuse me? I’m not even into-“  
  
Minho burst out in a fit of scornful laughter, “Greenie, please, I have eyes. Why do you think Teresa decided to come so quickly? You were basically ready to cum back there, don’t think you can fool me. The blondie’s definitely playing for our team, it’s not a problem. I’d offer my own services, but obviously I have a bit of a fling going with T.”  
  
It was Thomas’ turn to burst out laughing, drying his eyes for effect, “Yeah, she’s totally into you, Minho. Straight A student would totally go for trash like you.” He smirked, mirroring Minho’s cocky attitude perfectly.  
  
Minho just shrugged, looking awfully smug with himself. “You’ll see.”  
  
The brunette shook his head softly, walking on through campus after having shaken Minho’s arm off of his shoulder. “What makes you think he’d go for me? He didn’t really seem like my biggest fan.”  
  
Another smirk. “Oh Greenie. Your sweet, naïve, little soul gives me life.”  
  
Thomas punched him on the shoulder, hard. “You’re such an annoying piece of shit.”  
  
The grin Minho sent him was downright terrifying, but Thomas knew him well enough not to show any signs of weakness. Minho was a great guy, but he liked to hide it behind a pile of crappy, cocky attitude. “Trust me, Greenie, he’ll like you alright. Halloween is a magical time, and I have your costume.”  
  
Thomas felt a slow sense of dread fill the pit of his stomach. He _had_ forgotten all about costumes and no stores would have anything at this time. What Minho had in store for him was probably not good, but it just might be his only choice.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
 ** _Min:_** _The Greenie is in.  
 **T:** You know that he hates that.  
 **Min:** I know, that’s why it’s fun. What’re you gonna do with blondie’s costume?  
 **T:** Don’t call him that, you dick.  
 **Min:** Ah T, always finding an excuse to talk about my dick.  
 **T:** Ah Min, always finding an excuse to be a dick.  
 **Min:** As much as I enjoy talking to you about my junk, I think we have more pressing issues. What’s he gonna wear?_

 ** _T:_** _I haven’t figured that out yet.  
 **Min:** Thomas is gonna be _ devilishly _handsome._

 ** _T:_** _How are you even such a jock and such a nerd at the same time. Fine. I’ll go with angel costume then.  
 **Min:** Part of my charm, see you tonight ;)  
 **T:** Just make a proper playlist this time.  
 **Min:** Nothing’s gonna be proper tonight, babe, I hope you won’t either.  
 **T:** Make sure you show lots of chest. I might be able to tolerate you.  
 **Min:** Duly noted.  
  
_ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
 _  
_“No fucking way.”  
  
Minho was laughing his ass off, and Thomas had never considered murder so seriously before, but this was way over the line. He wanted to kick his best friend’s ass harder than he’d ever wanted before.  
  
Taking a deep breath he held up the briefs in front of him, squirming a bit. “Minho, I’m not going in this. I’m not even sure they’d _fit._ This is like the smallest piece of fabric I’ve seen in my entire life.”  
  
Minho was still gasping for breath, having actually managed to fall off his bed laughing, “Come on, Greenie, you’re gonna look great. Show off that great package of yours. He’s not gonna be able to resist.” He stated, and Thomas fingered the trident, considering if he could try spearing Minho with it.  
  
He wished it had been a real one instead of a plastic one. Then he could’ve done real damage. “You’re not seriously expecting me to wear this and nothing else.”  
  
Minho wheezed, fighting his way back up on the bed. “No of course not.”  
  
Thomas brightened up a bit at this. Maybe it wouldn’t be all bad.  
  
“Okay yes I am, but you’ll have body paint on, show off the track-teams’ greatest treasure.”  
  
A glare sent the taller guy into another fit of laughter. “And what’s that supposed to be?”  
  
Minho looked him up and down, positively leering, “That hot body, El Tommo. Share with the world. Sharing is caring. Those abs can’t go to waste hidden behind clothes all the time.” He stated, and Thomas scowled at the red boxer briefs, not at all liking this idea the slightest bit.  
  
“What are _you_ wearing?”  
  
Minho got up quicker than Thomas could blink, finding his costume and putting it on the bed. “Sexy Roman.”  
  
Thomas was speechless. If he thought his briefs were skimpy Minho definitely outdid him. “That is the skankiest thing I’ve seen in my entire life.” He stated, and Minho smirked happily. Obviously that was what he was going for. “You’re nasty.” He added, almost as an afterthought.  
  
“No no, El Tommo, I’m just planning to _get_ nasty.”  
  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
“I really don’t know how you got me talked into this.” Thomas muttered as they walked into the rooms decorated for the evening. It was grand, really, Minho’s minions (yes, he insisted on calling them that) had definitely outdone themselves, and with help from some poor girls Minho had roped into doing this with charms and promises of free drinks alone they’d transformed an otherwise boring gymnasium into an entire maze decorated with everything Halloween-themed.  
  
“Easy as pie, Greenie, I dangled blondie in front of your face for a couple of hours and you were basically sold the second I mentioned him.” Minho stated, and Thomas glared at him. Yes, he’d been thinking about Newt all day, but he didn’t need Minho to remind him of that. He couldn’t help that Newt looked really good when he was angry, and maybe Thomas wanted to kiss him a lot, but he wasn’t _that_ easy. It had taken at least two hours to convince him. And that was only because he agreed with Minho that his abs were great. Nothing to do with Newt, nope.  
  
So maybe Thomas didn’t feel quite as certain that Newt would want him as Minho did, but he was definitely willing to give it a try if it meant dragging the most beautiful blonde he’d ever seen to bed. He was gorgeous, and if he was a friend of Teresa’s he couldn’t be all bad. T had pretty good taste – Minho excluded from that example. The thing was, though, Thomas wasn’t quite certain why he felt like he knew Newt a little bit without actually knowing him. He’d have to ask Teresa if she’d mentioned Newt without Thomas knowing exactly who she’d been talking about.  
  
And speaking of, Minho had already found her and was chatting her up, Teresa looking entirely unimpressed judging by the first good look Thomas got, but then when he looked at little closer a small smile was tugging at the corner of her mouth. He shrugged to himself, unsure what to make of it because honestly he didn’t want to get into Minho’s business. _Gross._  
  
So he caught a drink standing on a table near them, unsure of how Minho had managed to find money for having free alcohol standing around, but certainly not complaining. He almost choked when he looked up from the liquorice-tasting drink.  
  
Newt.  
  
Right in front of him.  
  
Basically just perfect in everything that he was, and Thomas felt horrible self-conscious because Minho had actually convinced him to wear the fucking devil-costume and he was painted red from head to toe and wearing a very tight pair of red boxers that made him want to constantly readjust himself, and there Newt was, right in front of him, dressed as an angel. Thomas would have to have a very serious conversation with Minho and Teresa about boundaries.  
  
And maybe about trying to prevent him from getting a heart-attack, because Newt looked so embarrassed, utterly red because of his violent blushing, but he also looked like – well, like heaven. The blonde locks were held close to his face by a shimmery halo made from something Thomas couldn’t entirely pin down, the wings on his back made the picture of pure innocence that the blush had started stand out.  
  
That was pretty much where his innocence reached its limit, though, because Newt was very, very shirtless. He was dressed only in a pair of tight, white jeans, and if Thomas was to judge by the way the guy was fidgeting and looking like a deer caught in the headlights it hadn’t been his own idea. _Teresa_. Boundaries conversation, definitely. Thomas didn’t exactly mind, though, because Newt’s soft, light skin stood out in the dark room, and the jeans hung lower on his hips than they had any right to when they clung so tightly to his skin. He took a quick gulp of his drink because honestly, if he didn’t he was pretty certain his mouth would turn dry enough to prevent him from breathing soon.  
  
But now they were here, and Thomas had already made an ass of himself by staring for so long, so now he’d have to find his natural charm and try to use it, so he took another few steps, stopping in front of Newt after having acquired another drink on the way over there, handing it to him. “Hi.”  
  
Smooth and eloquent as always.  
  
Newt seemed to be in less of an aggressive mood than earlier, because he smiled ever so slightly and seemed to blush a little harder – Thomas couldn’t be sure though, it was dark in here, and maybe he just saw what he wanted to see. Seeing Newt without a shirt did things to him, and the look on his face did even worse things because honestly was he supposed to look so sexy and so cute at the same time? Probably not. Thomas wanted to corrupt him, and he really hoped that Minho was right in assuming that Newt wouldn’t be entirely against that thought.  
  
“Hi.” Newt answered, and Thomas’ own cheeks heated a bit when the Englishman ran his gaze down over him and cocked a brow. “Oh wow.” He said, still smiling, but somehow more guarded, as though he didn’t want to actually have fun around Thomas. Thomas had no idea what he’d done to inspire this strong a dislike so quickly.  
  
He decided to push on, determined to change the apparently horrible first impression he’d made in the library, so smirked slightly, spinning the trident a bit between two fingers, feigning nonchalance because he honestly had no idea what else to do. “That’s a good wow, I hope?” he asked, leaning a bit against the stupid thing Minho had insisted he should bring to make the costume totally clear. As though red body-paint and a stupid headband with horns on didn’t make it painfully clear that he was one seriously cheesy devil.  
  
Newt looked away quickly, scratching his arm in a way that somehow managed to convey his discomfort even further. “Uh, yeah. Whatever. Yeah I guess. It’s very uh… revealing. Must get you a lot of attention” He stated, seemingly having trouble meeting Thomas’ eyes, and Thomas took another long drag of his drink, gathering his courage.  
  
“You’re not exactly innocence personified yourself – it must be some sort of blasphemy took look _that_ sexy dressed as an angel.” He stated, managing to drag a smile from Newt at this, but quickly getting interrupted by Minho and Teresa who was obviously rebelling against the slutty costume idea when it came to herself, because she was dressed like a fucking pie and Thomas was actually a bit surprised that Minho was still going for her when there were girls in much more revealing clothes all over the place. He usually went for pretty and easy.  
  
He certainly didn’t need to work for anyone’s attention, they were practically hanging after him because of the ridiculous costume he was wearing. Newt seemed to think the same thing, because Thomas thought he caught him eyeing Minho’s package when the Asian slung an arm around Thomas’ shoulders and smirked at them. “Having fun kids?” Or maybe he’d been eyeing Thomas? Thomas honestly wasn’t sure.  
  
“Yeah, good fun, being forced into scanty outfits by our supposed friends is a bloody ball.” Newt remarked, sneering, and Minho flashed him a bright smile.  
  
“Bloody ball, I see what you did there.”  
  
Newt blinked a couple of times before seemingly getting it and staring at Teresa with exasperation clear on his face. She just smiled sheepishly and shrugged, and Thomas quickly got the sense that Minho’s prescense (granted, he could be pretty infuriating) didn’t really help his case, so he shoved at his friend, “Go away, Spartacunt.” He said, and Minho barked out a small laugh and instantly kidnapped Teresa again before disappearing into the maze.  
  
Thomas sent Newt a smile a bit more tentative – any resemblance to Minho obviously wouldn’t help his case. “Wanna go in?”  
  
Newt looked at him in obvious suspicion, but ended up nodding.  
  
Thomas felt strangely satisfied although Newt walking into the maze with him meant literally nothing. It was just a maze, after all, and it was Halloween, but it would be a bit limited how much trouble they could get in. Thomas intended to make the most of it, though, so after a little while when three different people had jumped out and scared them half to death he held out his hand, receiving a doubtful glance from Newt at this. “Maybe go right here?” he said, and Thomas shrugged, following him, wanting to have pockets to put his hands in after the silent rejection.  
  
He silently cursed Minho for making him do this. At least he could enjoy the view, because those jeans were _tight._ It was hard not to appreciate what Teresa had done. The slight bit of glitter made his back light up a bit in the dark, and Thomas honestly had a hard time focusing on the maze at all. He could easily spend the rest of his life caught here if it meant unlimited time perving on Newt in the dark.  
  
“If we just keep going right we should get out by logic.” Newt muttered under his breath, and Thomas shrugged again.  
  
“So, what do we do when we reach a dead end?” he asked, having only raised his gaze to look ahead because he didn’t want to stumble over anything while checking out Newt’s (beautiful) butt. That’d be embarrassing. Fortunately Newt seemed to be focused on the puzzle in front of him, and Thomas really liked the focused look it put on his face, but he was also sort of jealous (of a maze, yes, he’d reached that level of patheticness – was patheticness even a word? He wasn’t sure and he couldn’t bring it in himself to care. Maybe he was a bit drunk.).  
  
Luckily there were drinks standing on trays all around, and Thomas suspected that someone with a map went around in the maze frequently, because no empty glasses were there – or maybe they were just the first ones to go here? He could hear squeals and laughter and found himself momentarily distracted from Newt’s pretty face by a loud scream followed by shrill laughter, some guy who seemed to have been scared out of his mind enough to go up and octave.  
  
Okay so maybe this maze-idea wasn’t all lame. It was a bit scary if he was being real.  
  
Newt seemed to think so too, because when they turned around he kept close, the back of his hand brushing against Thomas’. That turned out be a good decision, because seconds later a huge hulking figure came running and screaming towards them with an unearthly screech that made Thomas’ blood run cold. He tried really hard to tell himself sternly that this was a trick, this was someone Minho had hired or bribed, this was all good fun, but he could still hear his and Newt’s terrified screams mix and Newt was grabbing at his hand hard. For a second he was distracted by the feeling of warm fingers squeezing his, but the figure stopped right in front of them, leaning over them and stared them down with glowing red eyes. Thomas wasn’t sure if he or Newt clenched the hardest, but his hand hurt and he could feel that he was squeezing too hard as well.  
  
“Boo!”  
  
Another unearthly squeal, this time from the both of them, and they clutched at each other, locked in a hard embrace as though that would save them if this creepy fucker wasn’t just a monster Minho had thought up to scare the ever-living shit out of them, and the hulking figure shuffled back out the way he’d come.  
  
Thomas blinked, still having Newt clutched tightly in his arm, still feeling his heart pound, and then he looked down at the blonde, letting a smirk enter his face. “So, now that you’re here…”  
  
Newt shoved at his red chest and glared at him, scoffing, “I _hate_ Halloween, I never should’ve let Ter talk me into this just because she wants to get in that stupid jock’s pants, he’s not even that hot, I mean, who’s even into someone that bulky and brute-ish anyway when you can have someone more lean and defined, this is bloody beyond me, we need to get out of here.”  
  
Thomas blinked. “Minho is actually pretty nice when you get to know him, he just doesn’t like a lot of people and he doesn’t care about the people he doesn’t like, so he does whatever he wants to. It’s actually pretty awesome, maybe you should consider getting that _teaspoon,”_ his poor British accent actually got Newt to look at him, flushed with what could only be anger, “Out of your ass.” He continued, prompting the guy to glare even harder at him.  
  
“Not all English people drink tea. And it’s stick. Stick out of your ass.” Newt stated, his tone annoyed and that flush still on his cheeks, “And excuse me if some of us would like to get a bloody education instead of just goofing around fucking whatever comes our way. Besides I wasn’t talking about not _liking_ him, he’s just not my type and I don’t get why she’s attracted to him.” He continued, annoyance creeping more and more into his words for every single one.  
  
Thomas folded his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow himself, “Do _you_ drink tea?” he asked, letting the annoying accent slip again because Newt’s face was darkening and somehow Thomas enjoyed to see him get worked up, “And what _is_ your type then? Lean and defined, what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, snorting and winking at him, “More into the geeky sort of dude, huh Isaacs? Don’t want someone sporty? You’re missing out. I could show you.” He stated, and that was the second the last pretences of Newt’s innocence went out the window.  
  
Scorching lips were pressed to Thomas’, and he once again debated whether or not it would be best to just murder Minho, because his body’s response was almost instantaneous, and he really didn’t want to end up caught in a maze with a boner when anyone could walk in at any time. He didn’t have much focus to think about that, though, so he put his hands on Newt’s hips, pulling them against his own and the sweet moan Newt let slip into his mouth was better than anything Thomas had heard in a long, _long_ time, and Thomas heard a lot of stuff like that if he was being perfectly honest. All the others didn’t matter much right now, though, because Newt had pulled back and Thomas found himself following him instinctively, bending down to kiss him again, when Newt dodged around him. “What’re you…” he started, and Newt just cocked an eyebrow at him.  
  
 _Oh._ That was his type. Fair enough. Minho hadn’t been all wrong. Thomas cleared his throat. “So-uhm…” he started, scratching the back of his neck and smiling sheepishly, knowing that he probably looked like a major dork with the devil-horns askew and his hair mussed up. “That was a weird thing to do if you don’t want me to kiss you again.” He stated, again needing pockets to stick his hands in. Instead he just twirled the trident between his hands, trying to look as casual as possible because hey, he was pretty sure someone didn’t _moan_ into your mouth kissing you randomly if they didn’t want a piece. Maybe this costume wasn’t that bad anyway, he just needed to find out what kept Newt from letting Thomas kiss him again. He really couldn’t come up with anything he could’ve done wrong in that small span of seconds they’d been kissing each other, so it obviously came before that. “Did I do something? To like, make you not like me although you obviously sort of like me?” he asked, emptying his drink and putting the cup back on the small tray and taking another, handing it to Newt and bringing one for himself as well, moving against the opening of the small hall.  
  
“You really don’t remember? It was last Halloween.” Newt stated, looking slightly taken aback, and Thomas grimaced. Uh-oh.  
  
“Uhm.” He started, not knowing how to proceed because no, he didn’t remember, he’d been smashed out of his mind. “No. I’m sorry. Was it bad?”  
  
Newt just shrugged. “Well, I sort of assumed since you didn’t even seem to bloody recognize me earlier. I just thought you might have remembered throughout the day, this being like almost the exact same situation.” He stated, looking slightly defensive, and Thomas felt bad for whatever he might have done.  
  
“Will you please tell me? I don’t know what I did, but I’m really sorry if I’ve been a jackass, I don’t remember _anything_ from last year’s Halloween party.” And he knew that that sounded like a crappy excuse, but he honestly didn’t remember a thing and he wanted to know what he’d done to make Newt think he was so annoying.  
  
Another shrug, an eye roll, and Newt walked on. “You basically dragged me off, making some excuse about your friends being dicks and you not wanting them to know yet, and then we made out for a bit and you went to get something. Next time I saw you, you had your tongue in some girl’s mouth, and I mean, it’s not like I expected anything better, you being a bloody school-treasure and, well, you, but you could’ve at least told me that you weren’t coming back.”  
  
Thomas just gaped at him, unable to find words. He’d abandoned Newt to make out with some random girl that he didn’t remember _either?_ He’d obviously been completely out of it, and the thought made him feel bad for having been so annoying with Newt today. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I was obviously being a drunken idiot. I don’t know how to tell you how sorry I am, that’s just not cool. Why did you kiss me now, then?” he asked, and maybe he was a bit hopeful, but it was really hard not to hope that maybe Newt had forgiven him. Having had it pretty easy with both girls and boys for a while might’ve made him arrogant, assuming that he was hot enough for Newt to want him even though he’d been an asshole.  
  
The blonde just rolled his eyes and smiled. “Just wanted to see if I could. Let’s get out of here.”  
  
And then he walked off, and Thomas blinked and looked after him, frozen in place and slightly shocked at the casual way he’d shrugged it all off after having been so angry.  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
“Took you fucking long enough. Did you stop to make out?” Minho asked, smirking when Thomas and Newt finally got out of the maze, and Newt just rolled his eyes and walked off. Thomas was pretty sure that was a habit of his that couldn’t only have something to do with Thomas himself shitting all over him last Halloween.  
  
He shrugged helplessly at Minho and grimaced. “So, apparently I made out with him last year on Halloween and then I just walked up and made out with some random girl after having told him I was going to get something. So he doesn’t exactly like me. He kissed me and then just walked off.” He stated, pouting slightly because for all his smirking and flirting he was actually feeling a bit insecure about Newt because he was so hard to read. He seemed so nice, but he also seemed very sarcastic.  
  
Add Thomas having fucked him over (and not in the fun way) last year, and you had a fuckload of a mess that not even Minho could’ve thought up if he’d tried. So he explained quickly and Minho burst out laughing because he was a major dick with absolutely no understanding of social conventions when it came to friendship.  
  
“I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to support your friends when they fuck up.” Thomas muttered into his cup, almost choking when Minho slapped his back _hard_ and was thrown into another laughing fit.  
  
“You haven’t fucked up, he just wants you to get off of your ass and fight for it, Greenie.” He stated, and Thomas furrowed his brows.  
  
“I’m not sure that’s it, Min, he seemed like he really thought I was a dick.” He muttered, drinking some more to soothe his poor throat.  
  
The Asian just smirked. “Trust me on this, Tommy. Go get him you devil, you.”  
  
Thomas scowled at him and punched him in the arm as hard as he could. “Shut up, Spartacunt.” He muttered, scouting for Newt silently, hoping that he wasn’t leaving, because yeah, Minho was being a major douche tonight, but he’d also been sort of right and Thomas honestly wanted Newt to understand that he was sorry for being such a dick. It had started out as him wanting to get in Newt’s pants (and he really still wanted that because those pants were tight as fuck and it was really hard to focus) but now he mostly just felt bad about having been such a jerk. He looked next to him, furrowing his brow when he realized that Gally was coming over, taking a couple of seconds to figure out what he was dressed as. Oh.  
  
“What the fuck are you wearing, Gally?” Minho asked, staring their friend up and down, and Thomas almost burst out laughing because anyone who knew Gally just a little bit could tell, but it was still funny, and he quickly sipped his drink in a try to conceal that fact.  
  
Gally’s attention was elsewhere, though, eyeing Minho’s crotch in clear disbelief. “That’s gotta be a sock. That’s tacky, Minho.” He stated, and he looked so genuinely upset that Minho would do this that Thomas actually managed to lose it and spit out half his drink into the cup again, almost choking for the 3 rd time that evening.  
  
“Don’t change the subject,” Minho ordered, waving a hand in front of Gally’s face, “What the fuck are you supposed to be? If you tell me you brought them here… You know what, whatever, let’s talk about my stones – you sure as hell check my junk out a lot for a straight dude, Gally.”  
  
Gally didn’t seem fazed by this statement, just kept staring at Minho almost angrily, and Thomas wondered for the millionth time if Gally was just genuinely a really angry dude, because it sure as hell seemed like it sometimes. “Do you hurt people with it sometimes?” he asked, and Thomas was pretty certain he’d never breathe again, trying to contain his laughter to the best of his might.  
  
“Ah, my sweet, young Gally, you know nothing of the wonders of the human body, do you?” Minho asked, abandoning Thomas’ shoulder so he could move to sling an arm around Gally’s instead (made infinitely harder, it would seem, by the fact that Gally was wearing a massive paper mache costume shaped as a rock.  
  
Gally’s weird fascination seemed to fade, as he was furrowing his brows and staring at Minho weirdly. “I’m half a year older than you.” He stated, as though that would change Minho’s attitude in the slightest.  
  
Said “sexy Roman” held up a hand to interrupt him and swept it in front of himself in a dramatic gesture. “Shut up, Grasshopper. Let Uncle Minho teach you how to live.”  
  
Thomas piped up, “Dude, that’s from How I Met Your Mother, can we get back to the real issue at hand and stop talking about your junk? I think the only reason Gally hasn’t run away screaming yet is that he’s yet to figure out exactly what we’re talking about.” He muttered, having finally got his laughter under control.  
  
“Nah, they totally stole that from me.” He claimed, and Thomas just rolled his eyes, shrugged and left. He’d lost focus. He needed to find Newt before the blonde left for good.  
  
“Hey Newt! Wait up!” he called, pushing through the people on the dance floor in his chase of the blonde, who was walking away from him without even looking back. Thomas wasn’t sure if he saw his shoulders tense a bit and set harder or if Newt genuinely hadn’t heard him. He sort of hoped it was the last one. He’d obviously screwed up pretty hard, but he really wanted to let Newt know how sorry he was, and the blonde might not forgive him, but Thomas really wanted to let him know that he knew he’d been a dick last year. “Hey!” he called again over the music and put his hand on a soft, warm shoulder, and once again he wondered how Newt could manage to look so innocent and so annoyed at the same time, because that frown was back when he turned around, and Thomas bit his lower lip slightly (not missing how Newt’s gaze flashed down to it, but not wanting to comment on it because obviously being a smartass wasn’t in his best interests right now).  
  
“Thomas, just… I bloody get it, okay? You regret losing your chance last year, that’s fine, but you can’t just expect me to-“ He started, but was cut short when Thomas shook his head quickly.  
  
“No wait, I don’t… I’m not expecting you to change your mind about me I just wanted to tell you again how sorry I am. I messed up, and I obviously managed to screw over a really cool and nice guy – Teresa just told me on the way over here that you volunteer as a mentor? That’s really cool, okay, and I don’t know how else to say that I’m sorry, but I really am and I never meant to hurt you.” He tried again, hating how his voice had transformed to a whine on the last note. He was growing more and more exasperated with every second. It was annoying, really, because Newt resisting this just made him more attractive – that he wouldn’t let Thomas do whatever he wanted with no consequences spoke of a strong character, and Thomas really admired that coupled with the quick wit and the kindness that he saw in Newt’s eyes (when they weren’t trained on Thomas or Minho, that was).  
  
“Well, I don’t bloody know either, Tommy,” Newt stated, having now raised his voice a little bit, and Thomas winced slightly, not even embarrassed that they might be making a scene, but a little hurt that Newt thought it was necessary to yell at him. Thomas did realize that he was being stubborn and thick skulled right now, but he didn’t want Newt to think that Thomas wasn’t attracted to him. “I guess you could probably choose one bloody person to go after and then stick with that one person instead of jumping on everything that has a pulse!” the blonde sneered, and Thomas stared at him (okay maybe he was downright gaping), and blinked a couple of times.  
  
“That’s not _true!_ I’m not _that_ much of a manwhore.” He argued, feeling like he had to defend his own virtue since Newt obviously thought he was a great big slut. He pouted slightly, realizing that okay, maybe Newt wasn’t all wrong. After all, Thomas had fooled around with… well, basically everyone. But it was all just fun! He didn’t do anything to hurt anyone, he just really liked people and he didn’t see what was so wrong with – hey wait! “You know what, I’ve been chasing after you all night, trying to convince you that I’m sorry, I think that’s a pretty big commitment when I could just have ignored it and go find some random person to hook up with!” he stated, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring back at Newt, who had now raised his eyebrows in clear disbelief.  
  
The blonde shook his head slightly, turning his back and walking straight out, and Thomas followed, not done discussing this although Newt obviously was. “Thank you for gracing me with your interest, oh mighty Thomas of the frat house, I’m very flattered, but if I’m being honest I don’t think I can really take your interest as anything really genuine.” He stated, huffing as the cool night air hit him, and Thomas took a few quick steps and put himself in front of him after the door closed, ignoring how cold it actually was.  
  
“That’s _not_ what I meant, and you know it!” he claimed, growing more and more annoyed because Newt had obviously already decided that Thomas was just a bad guy and that there was nothing to do about that. He didn’t want that on him, so when Newt stepped to the side Thomas stubbornly stepped to the same side, refusing to let the blonde get away from him before he accepted Thomas’ apology. He didn’t have to like it, but this was just ridiculous. “I’m trying to say that I wouldn’t have spend my entire evening trying to convince you that I’m sorry if I wasn’t, and I really like you and I’m only wearing this stupid outfit because Minho said it would get your attention, and I think you’re really cute, and I don’t want you to hate me. I don’t know what the hell I drank last year, but it obviously turned me into an idiot, I don’t see how I could think anyone was more interesting than you. Is that what you wanted to hear?” he rambled, grateful for the ridiculous red body paint because that meant that Newt couldn’t tell that he was blushing, embarrassed about the stupid speech he’d just made.  
  
The blonde still seemed sceptic, glaring daggers at him, and he folded his arms over his chest, mirroring Thomas’ stance. He looked like he was trying to figure out if Thomas was taking the piss. In the end he put his hands in the pockets of those _fucking_ jeans, and Thomas already felt sort of defeated, because that wasn’t really the look of a person who’d accepted Thomas’ version as the truth. “Fine. Prove it.” He said, and Thomas felt his mind go entirely blank.  
  
Prove it?  
  
How the hell did you prove to a guy that he was probably the most beautiful person you’d ever seen? How did you prove to him that you wanted to get to know him? He furrowed his brows. “Do you want me to like, hand you my Halloween candy or something?” he asked, looking as confused as ever, and Newt rolled his eyes.  
  
“You’re a bloody idiot.” He stated, pulling a hand from his pocket so he could adjust the wings on his back, and Thomas blinked again, finally losing his calm and he surged forward, seemingly catching Newt off guard when he pressed his lips against the blonde’s _hard.  
  
_ And it was nothing like that other kiss, it was hard and Thomas poured all his frustration into it, getting as good as he gave, and honestly Newt probably had more right to be frustrated than Thomas did. That didn’t make that annoying, cute frown any less frustrating, and Thomas didn’t even mind when Newt tugged at his hair, because his own hands had found blonde locks, and he was pushing Newt against the door, grabbing at him and nibbling at his lower lip, having Newt kiss him back, more insistently than Thomas would have expected from a beautiful blonde dressed as an angel – he sure as hell didn’t mind though. So he lost himself in it, pressing as close as he possibly could, growling ever so slightly when Newt pressed a thigh in between his legs, and he started wondering if he was the one doing the corrupting or the one being corrupted. He put his hands on either side of Newt’s head, leaning in to regain his footing, trying to hold his advantage because Newt really threw him off balance, and Thomas was desperate to regain some semblance of control. He had no idea what to do when this kiss stopped. He’d just completely blanked, and he didn’t know how this would go to prove anything to Newt, but he wanted it to, so he changed it. He finally managed to let go of his need to retain control and let his hands slide down Newt’s sides, gracing the wings in the process and only vaguely realizing that they were probably smashing them to bits like this, but he couldn’t care at all, instead he wrapped Newt up in his arms, pulling him closer and trying to ignore the insistent grinding of a thigh against his crotch, because really, there was only one layer of fabric between them and the friction and Newt in front of him combined was just way too much, so he reached down to still Newt’s hips, pulling him as close as possible and stood perfectly still. He pulled back a little bit, looking at Newt’s face, and when the blonde opened chocolate eyes Thomas smiled carefully at him, hoping that he was making the right move right now, and then he leaned in slowly, wanting to give Newt a chance to pull back, and he kissed him again, much softer this time, and Newt accepted it, tension seeping out of him ever so slowly, and Thomas could feel him still resisting the slightest bit, but he was kissing back and that was all Thomas could really ask for right now.  
  
It could’ve taken hours or seconds before Newt drew back, Thomas didn’t know and he didn’t care, but he felt his stomach sinking every so slightly when he did, not sure what to expect.  
  
“Fine. I’ll take your apology.”  
  
He blinked. “Uh. That’s good.”  
  
Newt nodded, and then he cracked a smile that made Thomas’ heart flutter just a bit. “I don’t think you bloody kiss someone like that if you’re not really interested. If you fuck me over once again, though, I’ll set Teresa loose on your ass. I don’t think you want that.” he stated, and Thomas honestly had no idea what to think about this guy. He was close to impossible to read, and Thomas couldn’t wait to find out what was underneath those layers. Newt rolled his eyes. “You’re staring.”  
  
Thomas coughed into his hand, once again thankful for the stupid bodypaint. “Yeah, sorry. I just don’t get you. I thought you were really angry.”  
  
Newt shrugged. “I am. I’m a pretty bloody forgiving bloke, though.”  
  
Thomas nodded slightly, dumbstruck, and maybe a bit scared that the tables might suddenly turn. Newt moved in closer, pushing close against him and moving his lips’ over Thomas’ rolling his hips against Thomas’, and it was glorious and beautiful and definitely not very angelic… And then he straight turned and walked to the door. “Come on.”  
  
The brunette looked down, embarrassment finally complete. “Uh, gimme a second?”  
  
Newt shook his head. “Nope. Now. You don’t get to just snog me silly and then that’s it.”  
  
Thomas knew he should’ve known better than to think that it would be this easy. So he steeled himself, tried not to think of sexy things, and he took a deep breath and walked in after Newt, hoping that it was dark enough that no one would see the semi he was sporting. Damn Minho and his tight briefs.  
  
When they entered a crowd of whoops filled the air, and Thomas noticed Newt running a hand through his hair, Thomas quickly catching the drift and doing the same.  
  
“Finally!” Minho and Teresa yelled in sync, and Newt just shook his head.  
  
“I don’t bloody know what you two are on about.” He stated, perfect picture of beauty and innocence again, while Thomas was… well, embodying sin itself. He shifted a bit, trying to stay out of the flashing lights.  
  
Minho and Teresa raised their eyebrows almost in perfect sync and Minho snorted loudly, gesturing to Newt’s entire chest and the white jeans that were – well, they weren’t white anymore. They were more of an awkward shade of pink.  
  
“You _idiots_ broke my wings! Jesus!” Teresa stated, pouting until Minho leaned in and kissed her cheek, muttering something that Thomas (fortunately) didn’t quite catch, but it sounded like ‘You never fooled anyone with pretending to be an angel anyway.’  
  
Newt was just laughing and seconds later Thomas found himself on the dance-floor, quickly deciding that Halloween was probably the best day of the year. He wrapped Newt up in his arms again, content in swaying just slightly to a slow song (and keeping Newt at a small distance because he was worried the blonde might cause another _reaction_ if he got too close). He was pretty certain he could stay here forever. “Are you still angry with me?”  
  
Newt rolled his eyes – a gesture Thomas was quickly growing to like, although he wasn’t sure why. “A little bit. I guess you couldn’t help being drunk. Just don’t do it again.”  
  
Thomas smiled a bit. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I really want to get to know you better, Newt, I’m so sor-“  
  
“BOO!” – and a small curly-haired, chubby hobbit really shouldn’t be that scary.  
  
If Thomas almost ended up in the arms of a very cute blonde angel in the middle of apologizing, that was fine. People could tell that rumour, but he’d much prefer it if they didn’t mention the fact that his scream resembled a 5 year old girl’s.  
  
Thomas was gonna get Chuck back for this.


End file.
